


After A Year

by Liethiel



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluffy Ending, No Plot/Plotless, Oneshot, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 08:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17200511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liethiel/pseuds/Liethiel
Summary: The wife of Uchiha Madara reminisces after being married for a year. One-shot.





	After A Year

**Author's Note:**

> Well met! This story's unedited version was originally posted on Wattpad, but after consideration I decided to try my wings here.
> 
> This short snippet is really just a practice shot to get back to writing and try and get that creative flow going. I really miss writing.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_A year._

The spring was making its sweet return to Konohagakure. She could smell it in the air, see it in the budding flowers of the nearby apple tree. The same tree, oddly enough located right by the entrance of the Uchiha compound along with a small pond, had been in full bloom when she had first arrived. At the time, it had served as a droplet of peace and beauty into the otherwise stormy and gloomy thoughts that had dug their roots deep into her mind.

_A year._

She remembered the sweet scent those flowers had given off as she had walked the paved path in silence. The pond, serene in all its stillness, had rippled when a gust of wind had blown across the enormous yard. She saw the branches shake with the strong breeze, the strength of it enough to rip some of the flowers and scatter them carelessly around. One had landed on her feet, and had she not been flanked by her escorts from every side, she surely would have stooped down and picked it up. Instead, she had gingerly stepped over the small, pretty thing: she would not know for sure, as she dared not to let her gaze wander, but she could already see through her mind’s eye as the innocent flower was crushed beneath the feet of the shinobi following her.

She could remember the first time she laid her eyes on the two fans, each etched into the dark double doors and painted red and white, and how they parted to allow her to enter with her escorts. How those below the ranks had bowed as the shinobi leading the party – _her to be husband_ – had strode in. She remembers the calm, quiet fear in her heart. While leaving the confides of her home had surely heralded her departure from the old, the limbo that had been her journey here only became too real as she stepped through the doors and into the new world so different from the one she had grown up in.

_This was the world of shinobi._

_The world of brutal warriors._

_The world of ruthless killers._

Or so she had been told, at the time. How shinobi were little more than skilled mercenaries, tools to be used by those who had the means and the glittering gold to appeal to one’s greed and need of survival. Men and, something that had made her feel particularly small, women who took money in exchange of services, some of which were lathered with such an amount of blood and horror that for a lady of her noble bearing they were too graphic to hear.

Curiously enough, she could not ignore the healthy dose of fear that often accompanied this description often given with the wrinkle of a nose and a dismissal wave of smooth-skinned hand. In her eyes, shinobi appeared to walk the thin, oftentimes blurred line between respect, fear and disgust.

_A year._

Oh, how time had flown! Her skewed views had quickly been transformed. Someone, perhaps that great force that granted her the burning within her soul had truly tossed her right into the deep end and told her to swim. The lessons had come quickly: besides the power that exceeded the boundaries of a normal human – both physically and mentally – the people living thing this village hidden amidst the leaves were surprisingly… well, _normal_ , with everyday struggles and troubles she could expect from _anyone_.

There was also kindness and generosity, willingness to offer good will and respect in return to those that gave it to them. The spirit of building and hopes of future prosperity were prevalent in the present, but more than that there was a wish for peace. No more war, no more bloodshed.

_No more children dying when sent to play the roles of men long since fallen._

She could still remember the conviction in those words he had spoken to her after one night of bliss, almost half-a-year into their marriage. The alliance between Uchiha and Senju would carve a mark of change in the history of shinobi: of that, she was sure.

Her eyes turned to gaze up into the bright, almost cloudless sky. It was a sunny day, albeit the chill was still nibbling her cheeks. Her fingers rested against the wooden pillar she was standing next to while her eyes to turn from the apple tree, a keeper of her memories, to trail over to the pond and settle on the stone garden besides one of the servants’ housings. She inhaled deeply and enjoyed the fresh breeze. It played with the ends of her midnight locks, almost as if to congratulate her for making it through the first year and welcoming her to the second.

The hum of chakra caressed her skin to bring his presence to her awareness, yet she still couldn’t supress the soft gasp escaping her lips when a hand much larger than her own brushed her hair aside and skimmed down her back, eventually setting around her waist in familiar comfort. He nuzzled her cheek lightly as she leaned against his body behind her and tilted her head back. The hard armour met her unwaveringly: the metallic smell mixed with dirt telling her that she’d later need to clean her hair and change her clothing. He must have returned only a short while ago.

His hand brushed against hers to rest right above it on the pillar. Her lips curled into a sweet smile.

_“Welcome back.”_


End file.
